High-Flying Dutchman

For the first time in two decades, out side producers have been making their mark on the Festspielhaus, the Wagner family's private preserve in the 12th century town of Bayreuth. Richard Wag ner originally built the opera house in 1876 as a setting in which his music dramas would continue to be produced ex actly as he originally directed. Through the years, the composer's family followed his wishes, using the house for productions of Wagnerian operas that adhered slavishly -- and sometimes stodgily -- to the Master's wishes. After World War II, Grandsons Wolfgang and Wieland broke with tradition by mounting a series of unorthodox interpretations of Wagner's works. But since the imaginative Wieland's death in 1966, the Festspielhaus has lost much of its postwar luster.

This summer, in an attempt to recapture Wieland's spirit of adventure, Wolfgang relaxed the family's autocratic grip on Wagner's monument by allowing Director August Everding and Designer Josef Svoboda to stage The Flying Dutchman. Everding, 40, is the di rector of Munich's Kammerspiele, one of Europe's most highly regarded repertory theaters. Czechoslovak Svoboda, 49, is famed both for his mastery of lighting techniques (he was one of the leading figures of Prague's celebrated Laterna Magika) and for startling stage designs (TIME, July 25).

Svoboda's setting, with Everding's di rection, went far toward explaining the psychological mystery of Wagner's drama of redemption through love. Everding demanded a "moment of existential fright" at the first appearance of the Dutchman's ship. The vessel loomed darkly out of the water like a giant mollusk, brightened only by the Dutchman's pale face leaning over the bow. It dwarfed everything on the stage and threatened to sail straight out into the audience. Svoboda and Everding even had the audacity to stage the finale the way Wagner wrote it (most producers are afraid it will look corny), with the ship plunging beneath the waves and Senta and the Dutchman walking out of the sea and into the glowing red sunrise.

Against such scenic showmanship, Veteran Soprano Leonie Rysanek held her own, reaffirming the belief of many critics that she is the world's greatest interpreter of the role. New Zealander Donald Mclntyre, who was impressive last year as Barak in Richard Strauss's Die Frau ohne Schatten at Covent Garden, used his deep baritone voice as an apocalyptic Dutchman. Alabama-born Tenor Jean Cox, as Erik, successfully followed Everding's instructions to behave as if he were "the only normal human being in the action."

Perhaps the biggest surprise was Silvio Varviso, the Swiss conductor, who has had only modest success during his Metropolitan Opera performances. Jolted into inspiration by Everding's forceful approach, he evoked from Wagner's score its powerful suggestions of the Ring to come.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.